


Sorry About Your Foreskin

by Persiflager



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Face-Fucking, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflager/pseuds/Persiflager
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="http://sga-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2413.html?thread=33901"> this prompt</a> from the SGA kinkmeme - John gets regenerated by an Ancient device that heals all his old scars, including his circumcision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry About Your Foreskin

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [peevee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/peevee/pseuds/peevee) and [ghoulkitten](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulkitten/pseuds/ghoulkitten) for getting me into SGA, and to [tomato_greens](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tomato_greens) for all the encouragement during word wars!

By the time John finally escaped from the infirmary and got back to his room, the moon was high and bright outside his window and the city was quiet. He nodded at Johnny Cash, unclipped his radio and sat down heavily on the bed. As he unlaced his boots, his eyes kept flickering to the smooth, unscarred skin on the backs of his hands. “No side-effects, my _ass_ ,” he muttered. 

Mr Cash declined to comment. 

…

The shower was hot enough to ease the tension in John’s muscles, and by the time he reluctantly shut the water off he was feeling much more sanguine about the whole thing.

Towelling off in front of the mirror didn’t hurt. That damn bug scar on his neck, where he’d had to look at it every day for the past couple of years and remember what it had felt like to be fed on, had been taken away as if it was never there. That, along with the rest of them, too many to count – a ton of shitty memories that had been scored into his skin were now gone. He felt lighter for it, as if they’d been washed away with the sweat and dirt, leaving him clean and new.

In fact, John felt so much better that he decided to confront the other brand-new part of him. He stepped out naked into the room, double-checked that the door was locked, sat down on the edge of his bed and looked at his dick.

His uncut, turtle-necked, miraculously healed, newly Canadian dick.

It seemed to shrink under his gaze, huddling further into its sleeping bag. John made himself hold it and breathed slowly, trying to relax. When he closed his eyes, he couldn’t tell the difference. It felt soft and familiar. He closed his hand in a loose fist and his cock twitched at the warm, comforting pressure.

“Ok,” John said to himself, “ok.” He opened his eyes and looked down. “Hey there, buddy.” 

The tip of his dick poked out of his fist, complete with its brand-new jacket. The skin was brown and wrinkly and weird.

“Well,” he said, “at least you didn’t turn blue and scaly this time.” He pulled the skin back until he could see the smooth pink glans shining. “See, you’re still there. So you’ve got a little extra going on - who cares?”

He pushed his foreskin back up, which felt nice enough that he did it again. “There you go, everything still works. I still like you. And that’s what counts, since we haven’t exactly been getting friendly with anyone lately and I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

It almost looked like a stranger’s dick, except that John hadn’t ever got up close and personal with anyone who wasn’t cut. Mostly it just looked wrong. John pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants with a feeling of relief and settled down to read for a while.

After two pages there was a knock at the door. John put his bookmark carefully back in place, set his book aside and padded barefoot across the room.

“Hey,” said Rodney, wandering in and settling himself on John’s chair. He was wearing a ratty old t-shirt with a pun about quarks emblazoned across the front. His hair was clean and fluffy and he looked as relaxed as he ever did, meaning that it had been at least an hour since he’d had any coffee and therefore John might actually have to contribute to the conversation instead of nodding along to a manic, caffeine-fuelled rant.

“Hey.” John shut the door and went back to the bed.

“Ok, so, in my defence? Biology really isn’t my area of expertise, though I think using the word ‘expertise’ is relation to what is at best a pseudo-science is overly generous. Anyway, I’m sorry about your foreskin.”

John re-calibrated that on his McKay-to-normal-people scale and found it to be a reasonably gracious apology. “Don’t worry about it.”

Rodney relaxed and sat back. “You know I had to explain circumcision to Teyla?”

“Yeah?”

“She put on her diplomatic face, you know, the ‘be nice to the crazy barbarians’ one.”

John nodded. He was very familiar with that face.

Rodney lapsed into silence, darting the occasional glance between John’s legs. “So, um. Do you want to talk about it?” He waved his hand in a vague gesture that could have meant anything from ‘your penis’ to ‘your feelings about the upcoming tava bean harvest’.

“Nope.”

Rodney’s gaze continued to flicker between the wall and John’s crotch.

John frowned at him. “Stop that.”

“It’s distracting! Come on, you must be thinking about it.”

“Trying not to.”

“But-”

“Mc _Kay_.”

Rodney rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward with an earnest expression on his face. “You know, if it’s really bothering you I’m sure Carson could …” Rodney snipped at the air with two fingers.

John gritted his teeth. “Rodney, will you please stop talking about my dick!”

“Well, you seem upset, and I’m trying to be supportive.”

“Yes. Yes, I can see that.” John suddenly missed the time when Rodney didn’t even try to take an interest in other people’s feelings. That was a good, infinitely less awkward time. “Look, I’m fine, ok? And no offence, but I’m really not comfortable talking about my dick with someone I’m not…” John made a vague hand gesture of his own.

“Ha,” said Rodney before blinking at him. “Wait. Is that actually an option? I wasn’t aware that was an option.”

“Uh-“

“Because I would. You know, if you were interested.” Rodney was looking at him intently, as if John was a computer simulation and Rodney was waiting for the results to pop up. 

A denial tripped over John’s tongue and stuck to the roof of his mouth. “Really,” he said instead. Rodney actually hit on John quite often, in the casually inappropriate way he hit on everyone. John had been certain he didn’t mean anything by it.

Rodney nodded. “I’m pretty great in the sack, if that helps.”

“I’m not,” said John, mostly just to see how Rodney would react.

“You wouldn’t have to be, not when you’ve got a different woman every - hey!” He pointed accusingly at John. “How come none of your Ancient women freaked out? Did you tell them you got your dick caught in a threshing machine or what?”

John counted to ten. “They didn’t see it, Rodney. Neither of them.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Rodney.” John waited until Rodney was looking at him and paying attention. “It’s an option.”

Rodney nodded slowly. “Well, good.” He stood up and marched across the room to stand by the bed, hand on hips, looking John up and down. “Good,” he said again, almost to himself, before grinning brightly at John. “You’re going to enjoy this.”

“Big talk,” said John, a little breathless. He could feel his skin prickling with arousal under Rodney’s gaze.

“You’ll see. Budge up,” said Rodney with a peremptory wave.

John spread his legs, wide enough that his feet were hanging off either side of the bed, and raised an eyebrow in invitation.

Rodney regarded him for a moment. “Works for me,” he said before sitting down sideways on the bed, just past John’s knees, and unlacing his shoes. His right leg pressed against John’s dangling foot.

John curled his toes against Rodney’s calf.

“I knew you’d be a backseat driver,” said Rodney without looking up.

“Helping.” John nudged again.

“You wanna help?” Rodney stood up and started undoing his fatigues. “Take off your shirt.”

“Real romantic, McKay,” said John, watching Rodney undress.

“Take off your shirt and I’ll blow you.”

John waited a few seconds to prove that he wasn’t that easily persuaded, then pulled his t-shirt over his head and threw it onto the floor.

Still wearing his t-shirt and a pair of ridiculous lime green boxer shorts, Rodney clambered up on the bed so that he was kneeling between John’s legs and ogled John’s chest with frank appreciation. “Huh. I guess all that exercise is good for something after all.” 

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

“Yeah, but you know.” Rodney tilted his head on one side. “Context.” He rested his hand on John’s knee. John could feel its heat through the thin material of the sweatpants.

“I like this context,” said John, voice unsteady, as he felt his cock swell against the fabric.

Rodney smiled crookedly at him. “Of course you do.” He pressed his thumb firmly against the inside of John’s thigh and dragged it slowly upwards, his fingers trailing along the top lightly enough that John could feel the hairs standing on end. 

John made himself breathe in and out - slow, calm, easy. He closed his eyes when Rodney started tracing the outline of his erection with blunt, confident fingers and kept them closed until he felt Rodney start tugging at the string of his sweatpants. John opened his eyes, looked down and watched Rodney brusquely tug his pants just far enough down to let him pull John’s cock out.

It looked so rude, his cock sticking out bright and glistening when he had all his clothes still on. He watched, hardly breathing, as Rodney wrapped a big warm hand round his cock and stroked up and down, and as his shining glans revealed itself fully above Rodney’s fist he felt a shameful thrill.

“Does it feel different?” asked Rodney in a low voice. He squeezed gently before stroking again, slower and tighter than before.

John thought about it, as well as he could with Rodney’s hand on his cock. “Not really,” he said eventually. “Though -”

“- it’s not a controlled experiment, yes, _obviously_.” There was less bite in Rodney’s voice than usual. He sped up, stroking in a sweet, steady rhythm that made John want to thrust up into his hand. His thumb brushed against John’s balls. “If only I’d known you were going to get yourself uncircumcised today. I could have jerked you off before the mission, taken notes.”

John exhaled sharply, more surprise at the images that had produced than laughter. They flickered through his brain like a porn film on fast forward - here, in Rodney’s lab, in the armory, in the gate room. Rodney would have worn a look of concentration like now and talked to himself throughout, maybe taken measurements. John fisted his hands in the sheets.

“Yeah?” said Rodney. He glanced up and his eyes widened in surprise, as if he’d forgotten John’s face was so close.

John kissed him, quick and instinctive, pressing his lips hard against that wide open mouth before he could think better of it. “Yeah,” he said roughly, aiming for cocky and landing somewhere nearer desperate. 

Rodney stared at John’s mouth for a moment before bringing his hand up to drag his thumb over John’s lower lip, slow and thoughtful.

John gave up on playing it cool and sucked Rodney’s thumb into his mouth.

Rodney’s gaze snapped back up. He looked John straight in the eye and pushed his thumb further in, pressing down on John’s tongue, before pulling it slowly back out.

John’s lips felt wet. His cock was throbbing, despite having been left to wave about in the air by itself, and he had Rodney fucking McKay staring down at him like he was a whole pile of ZPMs.

He grabbed Rodney’s face and kissed him again, as dirty as he could make it. He shoved his tongue in Rodney’s mouth and groped the back of his neck until Rodney started making some noise, muttering filthy things against John’s lips. When he finally pulled back, Rodney’s cheeks were flushed and his lips were swollen.

“Interesting,” said Rodney in a tone that should have sent warning signals shooting down John’s spine. He gave John a searching look, seemed to be happy with what he saw, and re-arranged himself on the bed so that he was straddling John’s thighs. “Scoot down,” he said, kneeling up and pressing gently on John’s shoulders. “And lose the pants.”

John raised his eyebrows.

“What?”

John rolled his eyes and slid down so that just his shoulders and head were resting on the pillow before wriggling his sweatpants down til he could kick them free. He was now completely naked underneath Rodney, who was still pretty much dressed. Right in front of him he could see Rodney’s erection distorting the fabric of his horrible boxer shorts in a thick, diagonal line. John ran his hands up Rodney’s sturdy thighs, under the hem of his shorts, and squeezed his bare ass in happy, greedy handfuls.

Above him, Rodney snorted. “Knew it.” He ran his hand briefly through John’s hair before pulling his cock out. It was thick and angry-red, with the head standing proud and glistening with fluid at the tip. He leaned forward, braced himself with one hand on the wall above John’s head and used his free hand to press his cock against John’s lips.

John kept his lips mostly closed, just to be a dick, and instead darted his tongue out to lick lightly at the tip. It was smooth and slippery and the faintly familiar taste of salt made John open his mouth automatically for more.

Rodney guided his cock carefully in until it was sitting heavily on John’s tongue, then pulled it back out again.

“Oh hey,” he said, carefully casual. “Is it ok if I fuck your mouth?”

John swallowed and nearly came just at the thought of it. “Yeah.” Then he remembered that if you gave Rodney an inch he took a light-year, and added, “I can’t really deep-throat, though.”

“Oh god, me neither,” said Rodney, looking aggrieved. “I mean, it’s uncomfortable and I have a very sensitive gag reflex and- what?”

“Nothing,” said John, still grinning. He was talking about sucking cock with _Rodney_. Rodney had sucked cock, did suck cock, was going to suck John’s cock (assuming John didn’t fuck things up before then). 

“Well, good,” said Rodney in a pissy tone before pushing his cock back into John’s mouth.

It was a good thick mouthful, sitting heavy on John’s tongue and stretching his lips wide. John let his eyes fall shut. Rodney cradled the back of John’s head with his free hand and rocked inside with shallow thrusts, making quiet, desperate little noises. John kept his mouth slack, letting Rodney do all the work, and left his hands on Rodney’s ass for balance. He could feel the muscles flexing under his palms. He swallowed occasionally when there was too much saliva in his mouth, and Rodney’s fingers tightened in his hair every time.

John suddenly wanted to come like this, pinned down with Rodney filling his mouth. He snuck one arm around Rodney’s legs and took hold of himself. 

“Oh,” Rodney said faintly. “Oh, _nice_. Keep doing that.”

John let his legs fall further apart and his hips rise up as he jerked himself wantonly, showing off.

“Oh wow.” Rodney’s voice was hushed, reverent. His hips slowed and his fingers moved gently in John’s hair, scratching at his scalp. “ _John_. "

John hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard.

“Yes, yes, ok.” Rodney pulled his hand out from behind John’s head, wrapped it round the base of his cock and started fucking John’s mouth like he had one minute to get off before the world ended.

John dug his heels into the mattress and jerked himself faster and faster until his hips lifted clean off the bed and he came all over himself, shaking with pleasure as he thrust uselessly up into the air in long, slow pushes that made his toes curl.

“Fuck!” yelled Rodney, the edge of his fist bumping against John’s mouth in a bruisingly fast rhythm. “Ok, I’m going to come in about five seconds so if that’s a problem-”

Still dizzy with endorphins, John raised his sticky hand and smacked Rodney’s ass. Rodney shouted again and salty come flooded his mouth. John swallowed and sucked until Rodney’s big, warm hand came to rest on his cheek and he pulled his cock carefully out of John’s mouth.

Rodney lowered himself down to sit in John’s lap and they stayed like that for a while, breathing heavily, Rodney stroking John’s back in a vague, absent-minded way. John’s lips felt swollen and sore. So did his cock, he’d been yanking it so hard, and his jaw ached. Underneath all that was a bone-deep sense of contentment radiating up through his muscles to where sweat cooled on his skin. 

“I was planning to blow you,” said Rodney peevishly.

John shrugged. “Next time.” 

Rodney’s hand stilled on John’s back for a moment before it started moving again. “Ok.”

John cracked open his eyes, realizing as he did so that they’d been closed for a while. The light was bright. Rodney’s face hove into view, looking oddly tentative.

John rolled his shoulders, “Can you…”

“Oh, right.” Rodney climbed off the bed. John watched him tuck his soft cock back into his shorts and realised that Rodney wasn’t circumcised either. He hadn’t even noticed.

John stretched, stood up, stretched again and wandered into the bathroom to clean up. When he came back Rodney was lying flat on his back on the bed with his hands folded on his stomach. 

“Your bed is too small and your mattress sucks.”

John retrieved his t-shirt and sweatpants from the floor and put them back on. “You don’t have to stay here, you know.”

“You don’t want me to stay?” 

“I didn’t say that.” John waved the light off, climbed into bed on the side nearest the door and pushed at Rodney until he rolled over onto his side. John lay down next to him and pulled the covers up.

“Should we talk about this?” Rodney sounded worried.

“Nope.”

“Oh, good.” Rodney was silent for a few minutes. “Hey, do you realise you won’t be able to sleep with any of your old flames back on Earth unless they’ve signed an NDA? I doubt they’re going to believe that it just grew back, unless they’re really-”

“The alarm’s set for oh six hundred,” said John, snaking his arm round Rodney’s waist. “That ok?” 

“The - yes, that’s … yes. Fine.” Rodney shuffled back against John. He smelled of fruity shampoo, sweat, semen and something oily and metallic. John wanted to fuck him.

Rodney’s breathing quickly steadied and slowed, and he was out like a light before John could decide whether or not it was worth trying for a second round. Instead he slipped his hand under Rodney’s t-shirt against the warm, bare skin of his stomach and gazed out the window counting stars until he fell asleep.


End file.
